Adventure: Following in Apostolic Footsteps

By Tim Steger

This is an exciting document of an adventure in the pursuit of God. Come along on an incredible journey; sixty-five countries, five continents in over two and a half years of non-stop determination to answer the question: What in the world is God doing?

See the intifada in Israel up-close. Tour the Arab World including Syria and Lebanon and gain a new perspective. Ride along on the torturous trip the length of Africa, encountering harrowing danger in transit and powerful ministry in churches. Gain understanding of the worlds conflicts from Northern Ireland to Sarajevo and the West Bank. Walk along on missions of intercession and prayer, and meet powerful apostolic ministers building Gods kingdom. Feel the joys of impossible victories and the pain of desperate trails. See what God is doing in nations, communities, ministries and people.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 29, 2004
• ISBN: 9781420825954

Book preview

© 2004 Tim Steger. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 02/20/2018

ISBN: 978-1-4184-9723-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4184-9722-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4208-2595-4 (e)

Table of Contents

One The Call, the Preparation and the Commission

Two Moments Of Worship: A Gathering in the East

Three Countdown in Australia

Four Mauritius-Leaving the 99 for One Sheep

Five Africa-The South- Rainbow of Hope

Six Swaziland and the Power of Witchcraft.

Seven Into the Unknown: Hope in Mozambique

Eight Character Rides

Nine Near Tragedy in Zambia

Ten Malawi Gold

Eleven Tanzania-Broken Heart of Stone

Tweleve Uganda: History of Darkness-Future of Promise

Thirteen Lost in Cairo

Fourteen Lebanese Stronghold: Baal

Fifteen Welcome to Syria

Sixteen Legacy of The Apostolic Desert Fathers: Dier Mar Musa

Seventeen Damascus: The Road Can Burn

Eighteen Israel 2000: A Glimpse of Peace

Nineteen Jerusalem to Casablanca: The Mountaintop to Intercession

Twenty Marrakech: The Devil’s Circus

Twenty-one From Fez to the End of Me

Twenty-two London Bridges Destiny

Twenty-three Ulster: The Troubles from another god

Twenty-four Norway: Faith at the end of Faith

Twenty-five Oswiecim Poland: Where Words Can’t

Twenty-six Sarajevo: Who Shall Cry For Her?

Twenty-seven Romanian Winter Coming

Twenty-eight Ludenscheid: Apostolic Community of Love

Twenty-nine Lord Heroin Is My Shepherd And I Shall Always Want

Thirty The Call Home and the Conflict

Thirty-one The Perils of Ministry in the Promised Land

Thirty-two Israel: The Return of War

Epilogue: Mind the Gaps

Author’s Acknowledgments:

Thank You is not enough.

T o you dear reader this is the most frivolous of pages, but for me it is the most important. I am compelled to send my love, appreciation and deepest gratitude to the following people. Without them my mission would have ended before it began and this book would be an unfulfilled dream. These are the people who often in their own lack sent me the finances for one more day or week. Some of them spent sleepless nights praying me through dangerous and life-threatening times. Through their love for God and obedience to His leading, they will all share in the reward. I am certain to have forgotten someone, or maybe I never knew of your gift or prayers but you must know I am wholly in debt to you the unnamed as well. Please forgive my forgetfulness.

First, I must thank my parents Bob and Karen Steger, for always supporting me through good times and bad, and for looking after Two while I was away. Next Joyce Waller, who above all others is responsible for this, I will call you at three in the morning for old times sake, to say thanks. Extra special thanks to Gary Nelson and Janet and Dallas Wilson, my FLINt-NET prayer partners, who sowed more money and prayer than was ever thought possible.

Big props to Jordi in Lloret De Mar, Edward Dornan in Ireland and Yvonne (Cheekey) In South Africa, for really blessing me out of some tight spots. Katherine Gibbons Wake Up and pray woman of God it is two in the morning and Tim is in trouble-again! And all of the following people Mark White, thanks for the gifts and making me a millwork prima donna, Barry Chue, you flying yet? Valinda Hillary, Nana-Gloria Acala, Mical, Trent Fitzgibbons, Julie Wade, Paul, and Balsey in Sydney for being friends to me when I was a stranger. Chris and Deb Winnas, Dave Peeters, Roberta Peeters for the kindness in Johannesburg. Thanks to James and Nancy Kabvalo and the churches of Mzuzu, Mr Mlay, Nsua, Dunston Maboya in Dar and Bishop Mc Lende in Arusha, Geoffry in Kampala, Peter Kuya, Pastor, and all of the saints in Kakamega, Kenya, all at Dier mar Musa, The kind man who saved me from extortion in Jordan, the US embassy in Jordan, the Jabari family in Jerusalem especially Ayman, my brother and dear friend Michael Grossman for the couch and milky puddings, Ian Norton, Betty Hopson, Kimberly Mollring, Ruth Moreland, Linda White, Nancy Bergan, Bill and Connie Wilson, Patrica, Doris from Munich, Ridun, Daria, Robert and Neyda Coe, Hessel, Philip Rowlands, Loriana from Cosa Rica, Rick Ridings, Jo-Ana Kendal for the word in season, Larissa Rahn, Angel and Daniel Howansky for the great party, Lloyd Phillips, Bayless Conley and C.C.C., Ken Mulkey, Larry and Debbie Matteson and the CSOM alumni association, Johnny and Lisa Finger J-Bird has it really been 24 years?, Manny, Joyce’s friends at the Lord’s Church, Karoly and Zslot in Hungary, Carl and Sheila Fox, Art, Suzi, Chris (big daddy) Steph Moslow, and all the Moslow clan in Buffalo I love you all, Jill White, six crispy creams comin’ your way, Abraham Al-Hawi, Monti Bigelow for the cds and lots of stuff, Gene and Mary Lois at House of Peace, Big Dave in Iowa, thanks for Kansas City, everybody in Ludenscheid at the FCJG especially Siegfreid, Dottie for Toronto and other stuff, Peggy Akin again-sorry about the towing thing, Sam and Cyndi in BC, Dave and Cathy Sivills for so much GO BRUINS!, the FLINt Net in Montana, Bill and Pochie and the FLINt Net in L.A., Dennis and Maureen, Luis Enrique for the Spanish lessons in San Pedro, Jeff Crume, Dave Brown for the work tips, Eric Werkmiester for the same, Monique Alponte Yer Sister for the prayer with Troll and a million other things, Fred Coates for encouraging me to live past thirty and not become what I despise, Huge thanks to Bill and Rose Moll for taking me in when I was homeless with my stinky dog, and all the love you gave me- I will never forget, Gene Pietrini and Blair, for the surf sessions and pointing your finger at me and saying You just gotta start writing-NOW.please surf with me again, bro, and last but not least to my Grams, you can’t go home to heaven until you read this book, read very slowly, I love you. (I guess you couldn’t wait, Gram, see you when the stars fall from the sky and the moon turns red over one tree hill.)

Cheers,

Tim Steger - [e-mail]

Shouting me out of what I used to be, and then you sing me in free. Your breath will be the breath of me, and Your life will the death of me.

Brandon Whillet

All for you, Jesus.

One

The Call, the Preparation

and the Commission

G od is real, and he has a voice that is used to speak to us on earth. What follows here, is a true testament to this fact. The voice of God is not elusive, nor is it made to be overly mysterious. I do know, however, that it requires a commitment of respect and dignity to hear. The hearing is a product of a relationship of love, a divine conversation of prayer and listening. This is where the words of love are exchanged, requests are made and guidance is given. What was about to be told to me would change me for all eternity…

It was a time of great pressure, one in which all things are tested. Like gold put in a fire to be found lacking of value or of great worth. The flames lick away the dross allowing only the precious to remain. What was being put on the flames at this time, however, was something intimate, something well cherished. It was my very soul.

I went to Mexico in need of hearing a great deal, hence my willingness to respect the answer, with a commitment of withdrawing to the wilderness. The waves pounded the jagged reef rocks on the dusty patch of the Baja Coast, just south of Salsupuedos. On the last deserted stretch of Coast before Ensenada there exists an Island called Todos Santos where a lighthouse stands with its endless revolution of light. The lighthouse serves to guard and give life to the fishermen of Mexico. Out there at the Island the waves were monstrous, at times more than fotrty feet tall. Surfers ride these beasts for the ultimate challenge.

In the place named Killers, a surfer rode the biggest photographed wave that year won 50,000 dollars.

I came for refuge and for a time in the wilderness. My small, battered, rusty trailer sat twenty meters from the sea. There was neither electricity nor water, making the sweep of the lighthouse more profound in a star drenched night. It, like I, was searching the dark. I was alone, save for my beloved dog, Two. Her I’m-happy-to-be-a-dog persona always brought me light and peace in a storm. She lived to love me. Two had weathered the fiercest storms of my life at my side; she was a gift from God.

I knew that the wilderness was the place to hear from God. This was the place that Jesus would go, when he needed to hear from heaven. Feeling pressured, I was near the end of my ability to endure the wait. The chaos of my busy life was boiling over, set ablaze on my disappointment and disillusionment. I was disappointed by my expectations of others in my life who said they were Christians, followers of Jesus, yet did not seem to obey his teachings. Teachings of honesty and truth, of peace and humility, all seemed to be swept aside in a stroke of situational ethics and hypocrisy. I felt disillusioned at the blindness of the direction of my brothers and sisters, who claimed to be leading the way. My life had become a circus of ministry and work, which with each passing day seemed on the verge of explosion. The stress of this time caused the relaxation of my moral vigilance.

A week before I had nearly made a mistake that could have cost me my life, or all the things of value in it. I was driven to Mexico by my own desire to silence the orchestra of voices in my head and to seek the face of God. Most importantly, I came to hear his voice. I needed wisdom and direction directly from God’s throne room in heaven.

The bent tree howl of gusting Pacific wind caused a shudder through the rusty trailer, which was no bigger than a large bathroom. Courses of creaking engulfed me on all sides. A fresh wind had come to the beach and to my spirit, a mandate, an order, a call of the living God. Divine purpose and plan had seemingly come on an unexpected wind. Spoken by the still small voice inside my heart, from my spirit where God dwells.

Some may scoff, calling it a sixth sense, a mother’s intuition, or a gut feeling. They say that it is something that is a natural occurrence, not divine at all, merely getting in touch with myself using my own wisdom. As for me, I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus Christ, and with that there are many rights, privileges and responsibilities. Through developing a relationship, I can hear God’s voice to my heart. It is my right as a son of God, God words working through the Holy Spirit. This gift is available to all Christians.

Through His voice on that windy day I received the next chapter in my Call. Destiny had come calling, and I was awake to answer the door. To my joy, my dreams were standing before me covered in dust and neglect, harried from having followed me for so long, ignored.

My dreams had now taken on a shape, a shape of a vision which would become a journey around the world, a revolution and a half, 150,000 k, 100,000 miles, sixty three countries, five continents, a journey filled with much joy and many tears. All in a dream, all in a dream, something I carried as long as I could remember. It was a dream of walking on foreign sand, spreading my wings and flying away.

These dreams had carried me through many dark and wicked days, so many hazy or lonely nights; I was kept warm and alive by the hope of my dreams. Now as I gazed out at the star-bathed sky, the mandate had come. God had spoken to me! Not in a burning bush, or a star to follow in the heavens, but in a simple whisper, of a still small, voice, He spoke to my heart: "Prepare, I am going to send you Tim, around the world to do my work, to be my sent one".

On this windy night the outline of the details began to take shape. I was to give away or sell all my possessions on earth, quit my day job, resign from the ministry I was helping to lead, and say good-bye to my family and friends. As silly as it sounds, the most difficult was going to be petting my dog good-bye. Her brown eyes, drippy face, and black tongue would prove to be the most difficult to part with. She was rescued from the pound after thirty days, a miracle for her to stay alive that long, on death row. It had been her and me for four years; we are tight. These thoughts led me to realize I must remain serious about my preparation, and not run ahead of God’s timing.

Serious messages require serious measures; I decided that I would fast and pray for forty days. I needed more information. I needed clear direction. I had to know where to go, what to do. For forty days I fasted as the Muslims do, sun up to sun down. I was attending Bible College by night, leading a ministry in Hollywood on the weekends and working construction full time by day. This would prove to be an extremely difficult challenge.

My heart pounded with excitement under the Baja moon. I knew with all the longing of desire I had that this was a milestone, a special moment, and the sweet kiss of a new life from God. The reality of redemption was made real to me. No longer did the wicked me live.

I believed God was calling for a ‘coming together’ of a lifelong dream. For many years I sought my own path to follow, my heart having strayed far from God. A part of me always knew I would be traveling around the world. When God spoke those words to me, all the longing days of my life began to make sense. God was revealing the calling of my life; this was to be a two and a half year season.

In receiving this Call, I knew massive planning and attention would be required. For the next forty days of fasting, God, revealed the course, little by little. First I searched for ministries to work for and for an order to the countries I would visit. Relentlessly searching for the story of another mission like mine was fruitless. I could find (at that time) no one sent alone to follow the spirit of God around the world. I have since met many ‘sent ones’ in my travels.

Hours and hours I spent staring at my map of the world, and day by day, God would speak countries to me that I would visit. Sometimes this came during church when a traveling minister visited; other times it came through the Bible, where cities of that part of the world captured my heart. I knew ministers personally who worked in certain countries, some of which I knew I must see. Weeding out what was from God and what were my ideas after hours of prayer and weeks of fasting, I began to get a list of those places: New Zealand, Australia, South Africa, followed by an overland trip to Cairo, Lebanon, Syria and Jordan, followed by a long stay in Israel. After Israel I would take a trip to Morocco and ending in England. This list took months to complete, and like a puzzle coming together, the picture soon became clear. After England there would be thirty more countries revealed. During this time of planning I began to seek contacts in the countries I felt God would have me visit.

Next, I felt I should share my vision with the people closest to me. I was a member of a small prayer group of intercessors associated with the Fellow Laborers International Network (FLInt Net) in Montana, led by Lloyd Phillips. We met once a week for prayer and worship and teaching.

The prayer group consisted of three close friends: Joyce Waller, who was like a sister to me, Gary Nelson, an inventor and minister and Janet Wilson, a teacher and minister/prayer warrior. As I revealed this to them they bore witness and agreed that this was indeed a Godly plan. They prayed with and counseled me and God showed them as confirmation.     Over the next two months I began to share with them the developing plans. Their prayer and advice helped me flush out the plan.

At the time I was also leader in a music ministry in Hollywood, promoting Christian concerts on Sunset Strip. In addition, in two months I would graduate from a two-year school of Ministry at my home church, Cottonwood Christian Center in Los Alamitos, California. After which, I would be licensed and later ordained as a minister.

As revelation of the journey was developing I attended a conference, where three different men prophesied over me. Their words were confirming; each said my life was about to change and I was on the right path. They also spoke words about ministering on the mission field. These prophetic words bore no new information, only a confirmation of what God had previously shown me. They boosted my confidence in hearing from God for myself.

When the nuts and bolts planning time came around I set down my every move in each country. I ran into trouble on the long list of possible people to work with. Only two did I feel I had a green light or peace in my heart to contact. The others brought me feelings of uneasiness or nervousness when I thought or prayed over them. Usually, if I pressed the issue God would say outright No. The red and green lights are checks in my heart, red removing a feeling of peace and well-being, green ushering it in. This was the primary way God spoke to me and led me through my decisions. The Bible was another main source of direction. Scriptures often came alive as I read them, confirming or denying a plan or question I had in my heart. The scriptures spoke the thoughts of God to me.

One day in a fit of planning and trying to organize too much, too soon, God spoke these fateful words to my heart: You can plan me right out of this trip if you want to. Extremely sobered, I sought counsel from my counselors and friends, who confirmed I was to follow the spirit of God where He wanted me to go. This would be revealed as I needed, but first I had to be moving. When I completed a task in one destination more light or revelations would be given at that time, not before. I had to learn to walk by faith and revelation, a much higher level than I was accustomed. I was to follow in apostolic footsteps.

I requested to volunteer for two ministries before I left home; one was Youth Alive in Sydney, Australia, the other in Sudan. Both accepted my offer, however politics and the civil war in Sudan made it impossible for me to visit. Every other destination was a wait- and- see situation.

I sought counsel with my Pastor, Bayless Conley. He encouraged me to follow God and offered to have the church cover me in prayer. He also gave me contacts in Europe and introduced me to Pat Metseti director of Youth Alive, Pat invited me to Australia. Pastor Bayless was another solid confirmation I was on God’s path.

The day before I bought my two thousand seven hundred dollar plane ticket I called two friends for counsel. They are both leaders of ministries; Carl Fox whom I would later work with in Romania and Lloyd Phillips who oversaw the Flint Net out of Missoula, Montana. I told neither about my plans and both gave me prophetic words about leaving California and stepping into a calling including radical changes in my life. After their prayers and prophecy I told them my plan and they both knew my plan was God’s plan… I bought my ticket. This was a collective effort of a multitude of counselors all in agreement.

The logistics became clear. Joyce would be my Missions Director, part counselor part secretary, financial planner, and manager, mail collector and telephone support team. In short, she did anything and everything to ensure my mission succeeded. She managed my bank account, accepted donations, called people, sent packages and prayed for me like no other person alive. We talked often when the phones worked and the prayer group always knew my situation. Her phone bill overseas was insane. Without Joyce, I could not have done this mission; her commitment as much as my own bore the fruit of this mission.

I had a Union Carpentry job and saved as much money as possible. When I left home I had enough for nine months. I did not ask for or receive any donations or support until after the first nine months. I lived the remaining twenty one months entirely by faith. God provided one way or another, always through average people. I sold a huge record collection for my plane ticket and gave away all my worldly possessions, except my clothes and study books. I left home with two bags.

Saddest for me was taking my dog, Two, to live with my parents when I was away. This hurt often as I missed her greatly. People I could write and call, Two I could not. For two and a half years, she was away from me.

Communication was via Internet to a hundred friends praying for me. As I would get to one country, I would receive directions for the next. Many people I met introduced me to my next destination or contact. A process of often not knowing where I was going and what I would do when I got there was an adventure in a life of faith.

To follow in apostolic footsteps, to press on to reach the prize, is a calling many are being given. There is a Call spreading over the Church. This Call is one of a pioneering spirit, a Call that is as perilous as it is rewarding. God is breaking new ground and doing it in ways we have not seen before and using new people to do it.

The Call is one of worship, of deep intimacy with Jesus Himself. The Call is one of prayer, the apostolic foundation and nothing happens without it. The Call is one in which people of all backgrounds seemingly waste their lives in the eyes of the world. The Call is to forgo all the treasures of this world and go forth in power.

The Call is to the lovesick, those who will waste their entire lives for a moment in the presence of Jesus. The greatest works of all history are unfolding before some of our eyes; the Call is to be there when they happen. The Call sometimes is the vocation, and always is humble path.

The Call to follow in apostolic footsteps is one of vision and one of courage, to go forth boldly where few have dared.

This stands as a testimony to those years, sixty-three countries, one hundred thousand plus miles, snapshots of what God is doing in countries, in cities, in ministries, in people and in me. This is a lesson in faith, character, life and love. There will be gorgeous portraits and horrifying images, victories in mountaintop highs and defeats in well-like depths. Life, but a life less ordinary, a life lived in the pursuit of Jesus and His High Calling. I know there are other men and women to follow this path; I pray this is a signpost on the road.

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Two

Moments Of Worship:

A Gathering in the East

T he notes from the grand piano flowed on the air as weightless as white dandelion seeds. The atmosphere was rich with a spiritual cloud of worship. The cloud is light yet simultaneously causes heaviness when breathed into the lungs. The air seems thick, not oppressive as humidity, but weighty when compared to normal mundane moments. This weight appears so elegantly that it gives energy the more it is felt. A normal weight saps one’s strength but this weight feels like the source of all strength. It feels as real as summer rain, the atmosphere dripping. At the same time the cloud is as elusive as a daydream. It must be focused on, savored and most of all welcomed. This is worship come up here.

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Craftsman of Worship

The songs and days become one in memory. The cloud came and went as it wished; in it was the very presence of God,The dandelion seeds of song flowed in and out of the lips of the worshipers that were crowded into this house of peace. The air would become pregnant with the spiritual, the cloud growing thick like snow. All over the room there was a release, the words floating by on butterfly wings, yet impacting the soul like swallowing fireworks.

The words of the song rang out over the room,The sound is as the Morning Star breaking over the Mount of Olives: "Son of Rightousness Arise, Son of Righteousness Arise, Son of Righteousness Arise! The Morning Star Himself, Jeshua HaMashiach, He is the first and the last, the coming King. Glorious Conqueror, Alpha and Omega!

The tangible presence rose the hairs on my arms standing high as a cactus’ thorns and chills flooded my body head to toe. He was there, in the room. Not available to the eyes of one’s face, but to the eyes of one’s heart. With His presence came the explosion of the spiritual. This came in visions, words, prayers and declarations. They flooded the heart and soul; the mind filled with prayer and vision. Arise, Oh Lord and come! The Spirit and the Bride say Come! The dandelion seeds of song flowed on. Son of Righteousness Arise!

Deep prayers of intercession burst forth like geysers, unstoppable, unquenchable. God, arise over Jerusalem, God, flood your land with your presence. God, touch and bless every Arab and Jew. Visions of victory and visions of triumph were both contained in the embrace of the Captain of the Hosts of Heaven for He was in the House. This is worship come up here!

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Worship at the now closed Mt Zion Fellowship.

Intercessors arose; those keen to prophetic insight took their turn to declare the heavenly thought,The song flowed on… Son of Righteousness Arise… the end was shown from the beginning. The Warriors drew their cups from the well of eternal life. Son of Righteousness Arise!

As the snowflakes of sound fluttered about the room, the steady hand on the grand piano stirred the soul. Each note struck the chord that caused the spirit within us to vibrate. The presence of God was here, tangible like electricity in the air, our hairs standing on end. Some fell prostrate on the stone floor and Persian rug. The prayers of intercession and prayers of adoration intermingled to create a force of love rising heavenward, a sweet smelling aroma to God and man created here in the pot of worship.

Son of Righteousness Arise The refrain again called for Him! With healing in Your wings, Son of Righteousness Arise, with healing in Your wings!

The prophetic song had changed course. A new wave seemed to gently break, flooding every hidden place in us. The gentleness of the heavy cloud seemed to thicken, a blanket of dandelion seeds charged with the electric presence of God.

New prayers burst forth from all over the room, new visions birthed in the spirit, these were higher and deeper simultaneously! With healing in Your wings, sung again sparked the higher prayers of surrender, the deeper prayers of healing and restoration after the victory. Words escaped from trembling lips. Prayer Warriors fell flat on their faces, bowed at the knee, heads lowered in surrender to the Healer/King. This is worship come up here.

Prayers such as these escaped: Lord bring peace to Gaza, to Jenin, Ramallah, Gilo, Bethlehem, Bethel, all of the West Bank; from Samaria to Judah. HEALING! HEALING! HEALING! To the suffering, to the mourning, to those who have lost children… Son of Righteousness Arise, with healing in Your wings. The song echoed around the room, prayers never ceasing. Arise in victory oh Lord, arise and bring health and healing. Make us whole, make this city whole make this nation whole! Come quickly, Son of Righteousness, with your roadmap. Bring peace!

The cloud grew thicker, drawing and wooing all the worshipers together into a place of intimacy. This was a heavy place of Love, Adoration, Petition and Warfare. Son of Righteousness Arise, with healing in Your wings. This is a place of intercession where God’s Love, will and plans are revealed to His elect and His power is present to confirm. Our minds can’t grasp it our eyes can’t see it, and our ears can’t hear it. Inside our spirits, our souls are flooded! Away from the sensual we find Him. This is Worship come up here!

The cloud visits the hungry; it comes to those who pour out their hearts like water in worship. To a group such as this His presence is never very far. We are Watchmen on the Walls: we live for moments and hours like this. Oh to dwell in the presence of God; better is one day in His courts than a thousand elsewhere.

As the cloud waned the dancers took to the floor to dance in worship. Banners of praise, victory and warfare waved. There are moments of joy; unescapable shouts and passionate love exploded. There are moments of repentance and deep mourning from the depths of broken hearts, moments of trembling where God touches the most intimate of places. Through all of it lies the undeniable, unexplainable, unescapable Presence of the Living God. This is Worship come up here!

Oh, for a few moments in such places, is there anything better this side of heaven? The prayers came in song the prayers came in words. Scriptures are read and proclaimed. Visions are spoken and the spontaneous words given by the Spirit of God are declared. There are days of warfare, wrestling and fighting; there are days of glorious joyful celebration. In season and out, the watchmen on the walls never cease.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

The faithful psalmists conduct the orchestra of praise and worship, prayer and intercession, and prophecy and repentance. Patti, Nigel and Noel are the master craftspeople of elegant worship. They faithfully pour their hearts and lives daily for the worship of the King. The whole effort of constant watching is overseen by Rick; his is the heart of leadership. He is the keeper of the vision, day after day, month after month, slowly dripping into years. Rick has been a leader of the Watchman on the Walls.

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The hungry Worshipers.

Rick and the rest of us may never know the world changing impact this worship has had on heaven and earth. I know this truly is one of the most important ministries I have had the privilege of witnessing. More has been accomplished in that room in one day than in entire nations in a week. This is no exaggeration borne of immaturity or a myopic statement of inexperience. I declare simple fact that the reason for our creation was to touch the heart of God in adoration. To do this while accomplishing His will in the place He calls The Apple (or pupil) of My eye is the highest level of importance. The only higher or greater work in all of the Kingdom of God is salvation of a soul.

A vision was given to Rick concerning strategy and world events, in which there was a pot on a fire and the contents were boiling. The pot was full of the fierce anger of the Lord against those who would destroy His ancient land or His people. Rick was stirring the pot; this was a symbol of worship. A command was given to Rick to continue stirring the pot (worshipping). The boiling pot created steam; this steam was a cloud of confusion to the enemies of God and His people, this was created by the worship. The steam in the vision was influencing world events on a grand and massive scale; fates of nations, regions and peoples were in the balance. This is worship come up here!

Three

Countdown in Australia

L ike a river, wide and flowing one hundred yards long and twenty yards wide, this sea was multi-colored, reds and blues, white and black, brown and blonde. It was a sea of people. Its number was around twelve hundred. The crowd of fifteen thousand surrounded me. I was working for Youth Alive; we were in Sydney Australia, at the Parametta Rugby Stadium.‘Countdown’ was the annual event for Australia Youth Alive: a multi-media, multi-faceted event in a huge stadium, which focused on one thing: evangelization, or bringing people to Jesus.

A massive undertaking, we had been working on this project for months. With five people on full time staff, the five of us daily-volunteers, and dozens of others, this annual event materialized.

The stadium was full of activities. Bouncy jump up castles, for children to spend their energy in, and blow up obstacle courses, jousting, American Gladiator-style competitions with padded sticks on perches in a game of balance for the teens. Rock climbing walls towered for the climbers. There was a skateboard exhibition with a quarter pipes and rail grinding, in-line ramp jumping, and competitions for prizes. Several bands played, including Youth Alive’s band, playing music to touch hearts and change minds.     There were many things to attract the interest of this generation of youth; by far the most attractive was Jesus Christ Himself.

Churches from all over Eastern Australia attended, bussing in from the Gold Coast and Melbourne. Youth groups from every denomination and movement were represented. It was a massive effort of cooperation across all dividing lines for one purpose: bringing the youth to Jesus.

The youth are our future and the Countdown was an investment. The youth are hungry, sick of the false pleasures of this life, craving substance, truth and wholeness. They have come. After the games were dismantled and the skater ramps put away, the focus was on the main stage, one worthy of a rockstar-sized audience.

Two screens showed the faces of the Youth Alive leaders. Pat Metseti and Christine Caine. They passionately told of their lives, their lives in Jesus. Pat shared his testimony of being an angry and abused boy, beaten with a belt, defending his beaten mother from an abusive father. God turned his life from one of anger to one of love and hope, and how as a fully healed man he came to share with others. Were they hurting? Were they lonely, rejected, and aimlessly searching for truth? He asked the audience.

When the call to come to dedicate their lives to Jesus was given, twelve hundred stepped forward twelve hundred souls bowed before God and asked Jesus to come into their hearts. It was time to follow Jesus, live his way and not theirs any longer. Twelve hundred young people, as a river of humanity, stretched into the distance of Parametta Stadium, and this was a river of New Life.

This sight was awesome. I had come thousands of miles, spent thousands of dollars, and this was the pay-off! It was my reward. Endless phone calls, production hassles, hours of frustration, and loneliness far from home, now paid off. Twelve hundred souls found God today. God had sent me here half way around the world to help. This was eternal treasure, something never to be lost; to sacrifice one’s time, money or life is never lost for all of eternity if it is done at the command of God. The opportunities for this are few, so when God commands we must act.

Twelve hundred young people that day had been given the opportunity to hear from God themselves. I prayed they listened and acted. I prayed they continued in the way of Life, and brought others to the Path. This was our future, all of our futures.

The hardest road leads to the greatest treasure. The road here to Sydney for me was one of the toughest in my life. Far from all I knew or loved, all things of material value gone and all friends so far away. The desire to quit and run away was extreme, but would derail God’s plan for me. Tonight the twelve hundred made it all good. I could count it all joy, for my cup of joy was overflowing.

Before I left Sydney I took one last ferry ride under the Harbor Bridge, one last breathtaking trip past the opera house in the fantastically beautiful harbor. One last time for me to give thanks-twelve hundred thanks. Twelve hundred more reasons why today would not be the day I quit. I will quit someday, but today is not that day. The salt air refreshed my body as God refreshed my soul. My eyes now set on the road ahead, my mission in Australia accomplished.

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The river of New Life.

Four

Mauritius-Leaving the 99

for One Sheep

W here is Mauritius? I asked. My intrepid travel agent replied It is in the middle of the Indian Ocean, near Madagascar. You can have a free stopover there if you fly Air Mauritius from Perth to Cape Town. And so it was, but why did God want me there? I did not even know someone who knew someone who knew where Mauritius was, let alone anyone living there. It would be six months before I thought of Mauritius again.

The plane left five hours late; it would be an all night red eye. Much to my joy, it was half full, so I lay out across four seats and slept, travel was good that day. I awoke to the landing process and within minutes I stood in a small airport surrounded by sugarcane. The musty smell of tropical rain hung in the air.

I headed straight for Mayboorgh and checked into an ocean front bed and breakfast. For fifteen dollars I would live in a small enclosed porch. The peace and calm of the place was in sharp contrast to the town. Although dizzy from lack of sleep, it was early Sunday morning and I desperately needed some worship in church. It had been two weeks since I left Sydney, Australia and Hill-Song church.

My Lonely Planet guidebook mentioned a church, and gave a map coordinate. I headed off and arrived just in the nick of time. The place was a steep roofed, corrugated metal covered building, and looked like it belonged down in the bayou in Louisiana, all rusty and swampy with uneven wooden floors and a post porch. The worship was just beginning as I gazed about the room, noticing the windows were not glass but rusted wooden bars with rotten wooden shutters that never shut. The chairs were from the 1940’s or 50’s resembling the ones used in American public schools, with rusted metal frames and wooden seats and backs. The plaster dripped from the walls. The tiny piano was nearly drowned out by the singing voices. Although the voices sang in French, I did not care, it was worship just the same. I am a worship junkie; I could sense in my spirit the presence of God here and